


birthday gift

by mountaindews



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Happy birthday Maa-kun!, M/M, RitsuMao husbands, it's still his birthday in my timezone!! i made it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-10-06 08:11:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10330121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mountaindews/pseuds/mountaindews
Summary: « A bouquet of red roses, please. »The florist, a tiny girl wearing a green apron and chewing a bright yellow gum rather noisily, smiles.« Are these for your girlfriend? »« They're for my husband. » His tone is soft, hiding a smile. « It's his birthday today. »





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm posting from my phone so the HTML may be a bit broken. I will fix it!! Do not mind it and continue your reading, please

« A bouquet of red roses, please. »  
Ritsu has had all eternity to learn flower language – but every year, every year is the same story. He's sure Mao doesn't mind his roses, after all. Nor does he mind his slowness in finding better flowers.  
The florist, a tiny girl wearing a green apron and chewing a bright yellow gum rather noisily, smiles. She lets her gaze roam on his suit, on the tie he hasn't bothered wearing properly, and stops before she can meet his eyes – for the best, probably. Ah, not many people can endure his gaze, these days.  
« Are these for your girlfriend? »  
Her voice is high, lightly strained; the voice of a child. Ritsu wonder how old she may be. No more than eighteen. She's fidgeting with her sleeve when she leaves the bouquet on the counter, looking for a ribbon in the bowl near the cash register.  
Ritsu breathes in. Being out in daylight is tiring.  
« They're for my husband. » His tone is soft, hiding a smile. « It's his birthday today. »  
The florist lets out a mute, surprised yelp, just for it to be blinked away a second later as she hands him the bouquet, attempting to smile. Maa-kun has an habit of giggling at reactions like these.  
« He's a very lucky man. »  
Ritsu holds the flowers close to his chest. They're kind of heavy, and the lightly damp petals gleam in the neon lights of the shop, making them look redder than they are. Perfect.  
« I'd say I'm the really lucky one, to have a husband like him. Getting him roses for his birthday is the least I can do. »  
The florist smiles, blowing a bubble with her yellow gum that pops rather annoyingly and makes Ritsu's lips twitch.  
« My boyfriend never gets me flowers, and I'm a florist! So your husband is really lucky. It's still really cute of you, he's going to be really happy when he sees them. »  
A single thorn is pressing against his finger, but Ritsu hold the roses tighter anyway.  
« Yeah. He's really going to. »  
Pain isn't something you worry about if you can't bleed.

Everything is quiet when Ritsu stops walking – no breeze, no voices. Just him and the sea of white, with fresh spots of bright colors where someone has left their flowers.  
« Hello, Maa-kun. »  
There's orange and white flowers already, when he arrives. It's a small handmade bouquet, held together with green lace. Beautiful like his roses, maybe even more.  
Ritsu kneels, expensive pants touching the  freshly cut grass, and he delicately moves the flowers aside to put down his, without damaging the paper-thin petals.  
« I drove three hours in daylight for you today, you can't say I'm a bad husband now. And this year, I bought the flowers after the car journey. See? The florist girl was really excited about our marriage. She reminded me of your sister. »  
Forty-one years since he was born. Fourteen years since he's gone. Ritsu's hand, white, without a wrinkle, strokes the tombstone gently, like he's caressing his cheek and not a piece of concrete.  
« She's been here before me, I've seen. Your nephew, can you believe it? He's growing up to be a fine little man. Little Mao… » His fingers freeze for a second, barely one, before he starts brushing the stone again. « He has your laugh. I've heard them talk a little in the parking lot, it was like — »  
_So mommy? Mommy! How was uncle Mao like?_  
_Just like you, sweetie. Beautiful, strong, clever and kind._  
« — it was like hearing you. Your laugh… I thought I'd never hear it again. It's in my heart every day, but it's not the same. Not really. Ah, but I don't want to make you sad, Maa-kun. What kind of husband would I be if I made you sad on your birthday? »  
There's no flowers on the grave beside Mao's – it's white, pure white, and bare. _Sakuma Ritsu._ A fake birth date, and a fake funeral day. Two days after Mao's demise. _Faithful, beloved husband, brother and friend._  
A death from heartbreak. Rei had said, bitterly, when they chose the epitaph. _What a beautiful ending to a beautiful wedding._  
Shut up, Anija. But Ritsu knew, if only he could die, he'd have died from heartbreak, and not two days later, but on the same day. If only he could die. If only —  
« Aah, I'm so tired, driving makes me so sleepy. » His fingers linger tenderly on the name. _Sakuma Mao._ « I miss napping in your lap, Maa-kun. Pillows can never be as soft. »  
The suit can be washed, he decides, as he sits down on the grass; legs crossed and a smile on his lips, as he's still caressing the stone. His fingers won't move from it. No matter how much he tries.  
« Driving back will be such an hassle… I should just sleep here. But you would yell at me if I slept on the grass, right? Ah… I'll nap in the car later. I don't want to leave you just yet. »  
Mao didn't want pictures on his grave, Ritsu didn't want any on his. But someone decided for one to be put in the middle, Ritsu's half on Mao's, and Mao's half on Ritsu's. A terrible idea. Ritsu is almost glad the picture is gone this year. He closes his eyes and breathes in, trying to remember how Mao's skin felt on his.  
It's not like he could ever forget.  
It's just been too long.  
« Happy birthday, Maa-kun. »  
_Until I can say it to you again, love._

**Author's Note:**

> I joked about Mao not having much time left on my Twitter (@natsumaos !!! say hi!) yesterday and THIS IS WHAT CAME OUT I HATE MYSELF SO MUCH  
> kudos and comments are GREATLY appreciated! Please yell at me. I deserve it. I have done a terrible thing. I'm crying right now


End file.
